


Deep Blue Day

by SetAblaze



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Quest: Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, M/M, Pining, Slight Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-07 02:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13425045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SetAblaze/pseuds/SetAblaze
Summary: Were the Inquisition at the Winter Palace to merely enjoy the ball and not search for assassins, perhaps he would worry less. If the Orlesians didn’t ignore him at every opportunity, perhaps he would have something to do other than drink. Amongst the peonies, shrubs and vines of the guest garden, Dorian found himself in want of greater company, and through the windows to the guest wing he caught sight of The Iron Bull.





	Deep Blue Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonscars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonscars/gifts).



> This fic is named after Brian Eno's song of the same name. 
> 
> To my lovely friend, you've been an absolute treasure with your support as I was writing. Many thanks for being a good sport.

Were the Inquisition at the Winter Palace to merely enjoy the ball and not search for assassins, perhaps he would worry less. If the Orlesians didn’t ignore him at every opportunity, perhaps he would have something to do other than drink. Amongst the peonies, shrubs and vines of the guest garden, Dorian found himself in want of greater company, and through the windows to the guest wing he caught sight of The Iron Bull.

In the Inquisition’s formal attire, he was devastating. Under the light of the lamps and the moon, Bull looked as though he stood in the sun of a deep blue day, shimmering like gold and glistening like water.

Something then caught Bull’s attention, and Dorian watched with interest as Lavellan approached the mercenary. In the light, the saffron lines of the elf’s vallaslin upon her ebony skin turned the Inquisitor into a vision of flame. Watching them talk, the sight made Dorian breathless.

It wasn’t jealousy, he had no right to call it that. Jealousy was reacting to the threat of losing something, and Dorian couldn’t lose something that wasn’t his in the first place. What he and Bull had was no different from Tevinter, no matter how open it might be, thus their arrangement was as easy to discard as dinner scraps.

No, Dorian wasn’t jealous of Bull, but he was envious of Lavellan in that moment. Because there, as she stood aglow, The Iron Bull looked at her, and that made her luckier than the mark on her hand ever could.

The altus was dragged from his thoughts when the bard began to softly strum upon their instrument. Dorian couldn’t be sure but it sounded like a waltz, and a few couples littered around the garden began to sway to the melody. Behind their masks some of the guests scoffed and snickered, but Dorian merely sighed, took another gulp of his wine and grimaced. Why Orlesian wine tasted so earthy Dorian had no idea.

He supposed he could entertain the thought of dancing with Bull, but such possibilities were far too tempting. To dance with a man in general was risky, lest Dorian repeat what he had with Rilienus. It was during a party at his family’s estate, hidden from prying eyes behind the garden hedges, that Dorian came close to asking the man to dance.

_“He would have said yes.”_

He meant well, but Cole’s revelation gave Dorian little comfort. The South was different, very different, but that didn’t mean Dorian could get what he wanted.

He glanced back to the window and noticed Bull wasn’t there. The wine, terrible as it was, was beginning to addle his vision, and it took Dorian a few moments to realise that Bull was walking towards him. He tried to appear entirely unaffected, but it only made him look tense. Bull walked across the grass, and approached Dorian with a small plate of various foods.

“Boss wants us to grab our gear and meet her at the servants’ quarters in the next hour. Haven’t seen you eat yet and thought you might be hungry”, he said, offering it to Dorian.

Feigning nonchalance was virtually pointless, and Dorian loosened the tension between his shoulders, “Ah, well”, Dorian replied, “Thank you. I suppose it would be rather unfortunate to fight assassins on an empty stomach.”

Bull left Dorian to his plate, but soon returned with his own. The two then ate in silence, the air hanging over them like it would under the broken roof of Bull’s room at Skyhold, chilled but calm. It was terrifying, that thinking of a room that was exposed to the elements would bring some measure of peace to Dorian, all because it was Bull’s.

Once finished, Bull took their plates and put them on the ground. He brought his hand to Dorian’s back and rubbed between his shoulder blades in small, gentle motions.

“Hey, big guy”, he said, “Something happen?”

Dorian slumped against Bull’s side with a sigh, “Nothing’s happened, the night’s just worn on me, that’s all.”

“Anything I can do?”

He looked up at Bull, his grey eyes meeting the Tal Vashoth’s single green. Such a soft gaze, Dorian wanted to see those gentle looks more often, feeling his desire rekindle bittersweet and sharp behind his sternum.

_“Hey would have said yes.”_

He pulled away from Bull, a humourless chuckle escaping his lips, “Such a mother hen, you are”, he chided, patting his cheek, “Let’s not get distracted now, shall we? You can worry about me _after_ we save the Empress.”

And with that, they left the garden.

-

The discovery that Grand Duchess Florianne was the assassin was a bit of a shock, but not all together surprising. She _was_ Orlesian, after all.

The real shock was Lavellan confronting her in front of the Orlesian court without spilling a drop of blood. His friend was just as much as sight as she was in the guest wing. Celene and Briala were reunited and the civil war was over, to witness it all was to see a legend in the making.

Lavellan left after a few inspiring words, and Cullen followed her shortly after. The musicians then took up their instruments and started to play. As guests began to fill the dancefloor, Dorian looked on and leant against the railing. He began to drum his fingers across its surface, not sparing much thought for anything save the graceful display of the dancers below.

Watching the swirling pairs, he noticed two women dancing. One wore gold, the other blue, and they held each other tenderly. Temptation dripped down Dorian’s spine. Bull wasn’t far away, and thoughts of swaying in another’s arms cut into Dorian’s mind like diamond daggers.

He needed some fresh air.

-

The garden’s chilled air was a warm welcome, and whilst before he was surrounded by people intent on avoiding him, Dorian was now alone.

Or would be, if there wasn’t a large shadow looming nearby.

“If you’re going to sneak up on me, you’ll have to better than that.”

“Hey”, the shadow replied, “I can be stealthy if I want to.”

Dorian chuckled, “How? By hiding behind a rose bush?”

Bull walked up beside him, “Damn ‘Vint, should’ve known you’d find out my tricks.”

The two then looked out from the balcony, admiring the waters of Lake Celestine under the moon. Although Dorian escaped the ballroom he could still hear the music, its sound clear and echoing across Halamshiral. He shivered at the passing breeze.

“You’ve been pretty tense, Dorian, mind telling me what’s up?”

He turned to look at Bull, but quickly drew his eyes back to the lake.

Bull huffed, “If you want me to stop I’ll stop, but you _did_ say I was allowed to worry about you after the mission.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Dorian replied, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’ll be fine, I’m just trying to distract my thoughts.”

Bull puts a hand on Dorian’s hip, “I can help with that if you like.”

“I’m not so sure you can.”

“Let me decide if I can or can’t”, he smiled, “What do you need, big guy?”

Dorian tensed. The music from the ballroom began to die down, signalling another song was starting soon. What he wanted, it was too much. But this _something_ that he had with Bull, it was going to end, just like it always would. If he didn’t ask, there wouldn’t be another chance, no repeats, no way to take back the silence.

The next song began to play. It was now or never.

_“He would have said yes.”_

Dorian took a breath, tried to relax, and looked Bull in the eye, “Would you like to dance, Iron Bull?”

Bull blinked for a second, and then he smiled, “I’d like that, kadan.”

**Author's Note:**

> The bard's song was inspired by a classical guitar cover of Shostakovich's Waltz No.2 which you can listen to here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jOYTEz_OH8E
> 
> I have no idea if this was any good. I'm a big sap and it appears that all I can write is the sweetness that causes tooth-decay. If you liked anything let me know, if you didn't then definitely let me know. I need all the help I can get and criticism is really useful.


End file.
